


My Old Flame

by warmsands



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Angst and Humor, Drug Use, Drunken Kissing, Dry Humping, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Mental Health Issues, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Recreational Drug Use, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-04 17:01:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5341700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warmsands/pseuds/warmsands
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bobbie Ray is thrown into a wasteland after a 200 year pause and realizes she is a part of something bigger. That doesn't stop her from losing her inhibitions, flirting left and right and drugging her hurt away while she continues her quest to find her son.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So here's the intro to my new pet project. I'm loving the game so far. Enough to ignore my finals and start this baby up. Also, I mess up tenses sometimes so sorry about that in advance.

            It felt like a dream. The chill set in her bones before she could realize what had been going on. She still had the “goodbye old, hello new” mantra repeating in her head until it all turned into silence. She knew something was wrong when the same chill started to burn her lungs, her consciousness coming back to her in painful waves. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t scream as she saw Nate get shot and her baby get taken away. Her eyes stung as she tried to cry, tried her best to move but found herself frozen, literally, in place. She took a good look at the bastard with the gun, swearing she will never forget his face. _I will find you,_ she promises. _I will end you._

            Bobbie felt her mind fade away again. She hoped, really hoped, that this was all a dream.

 

 

 

            The Pip-Boy on her wrist felt so heavy. Or maybe that was her grief finally settling in. She toys with her wedding ring nervously, fighting back tears as she stumbles through this _wasteland_ she used to call home.

            It was Boston no more.

Bobbie finds Codsworth waiting outside their old home, her heart squeezing at the sight of the old robot. She never realized how much she would miss him. “200 years,” she echoes, looking at the ruins around them with a dumbfounded expression.

            “A bit over 210, mum,” Codsworth corrects her politely, hovering close by.

            She gives him an unamused look. “Are you okay? You’re acting weird.”

            The robot broke down at that, and she really did feel for him. She couldn’t imagine waiting around for 200 years with no one to talk to. Now they have partnered up, searching around the neighborhood before taking a look around her own house. She could see how Codsworth tried to keep the place clean, his software likely making him go crazy at how futile his efforts were.

            After searching the entire neighborhood, Bobbie drags a chair into Shaun’s room and sits down. It all felt so surreal. She carefully slips Nate’s holotape into the Pip-Boy, listening to his sweet voice over their baby’s gurgling. She hangs her head low, resting it in her hands as she lets the grief wash over her. 

 

 

 

 

            After the grief was the overwhelming anger. Nate’s shooting lessons down at the range along with her newfound vigilance made her realize that rifles were meant for her. She can shoot. She can shoot _well._ Preston couldn’t help but give her an impressed look as she tears through raiders with the minigun, saw her stumbling about a bit in the power armor as she awkwardly runs from the deathclaw that suddenly chased after her.

            “What the fuck was that?” She screams once it was dead. She kicks at it, shoots its head one more time for good measure.

            “You don’t know what a deathclaw is?” Preston asks with a quirked brow. Of course she didn’t. She was a vault dweller.

            Bobbie injects herself with a stimpak and gives him a sardonic look. “No, I don’t,” she snaps, suddenly irritated. “I took down an army of weird drug addicts _and_ a mutant lizard thing and you what? Shot like, three guys. Thanks a lot, Preston.” Despite how annoyed she was by the entire situation, she decides to lead the group back to Sanctuary. She decides to try and make it home again.

            “I was a lawyer back in the old days,” she explains over a quick dinner one night. “I guess that kind of profession is obsolete now.” She chews on a piece of mystery meat (she had a feeling it was the bloatfly stuff—disgusting) and grimaces at the taste, shoving it aside so she can eat some vegetable soup she cooked up.

            “So that’s where you got your charisma from. You’re also a pretty good shot,” Preston adds as though he wants more of an explanation. She’s been reserved since she rescued them. This is the most open she’s been in the last few days of rebuilding their settlement.

            “My husband is a veteran. Was. Was a veteran,” she manages with a somber expression on her face again. She clears it up quickly with a swig of her whiskey. “We used to go to the shooting range. I was pretty good at it. Guess it just stuck with me. Especially now that I have things trying to kill me.”

            Dogmeat barks joyfully as Bobbie gives him the rest of her mystery meat. Preston is still fascinated by the fact that the woman before him is a 200 year old specimen, but he doesn’t pry. She gets that look on her face that tells him how painful it is bringing up her past. “Yeah, that does it for you,” he shrugs. “You’re settling in well so far.”

            She finally smiles. “Yeah, I’m alive after all.”

 

 

 

            Bobbie finds out that some robots look like people now, there are people turned into gigantic mutant monsters that eat other people, and there are people that have melted into an entirely different race. Ghouls, they’re called. Most of all, she’s still stunned that people pay with bottle caps. It’s painful carrying all the pre-war money she finds in registers, weeping over how rich she could have been back in her day. Codsworth, who easily empathizes with her when she reminisces, offers her some fresh water to calm her down. This is why she took him or Dogmeat with her on her travels. They settle her woes.

            That changes when she meets Piper and Nick Valentine. Piper offered a colorful introduction, offhandedly helping her get into Diamond City (which she can’t believe is the old baseball stadium Nate loved going to). She’s cute, fiery, and has investigative tendencies. Bobbie makes a note of visiting her office once she’s done with her business. It can’t hurt to chat up someone who’s kept out of their own city by an enormous industrial gate.

            Now, Nick Valentine… She likes him, maybe a little too much, but she keeps herself PG. She appreciates that he still looks like a robot and has a stellar reputation in a neighborhood full of people who hate his kind. He’s also helping her find her son, which gives him enough brownie points for her to immediately trust him.

            “I’m gonna need you to sit down and tell me everything,” he tells her gently as he sits down in his office chair.  “No matter how painful it might be.” He gives her a look with his glowing, yellow eyes. For once, she can’t meet them.

            Bobbie tells him everything she can with a dull intonation to keep herself from crying again. Nick keeps his comments professional, impressing her with his deductions. He’s given her a solid lead by mentioning the Institute. She feels a knot in her throat when he mentions a mercenary that recently disappeared from the city with a child at his side. “He was last seen with a ten year old,” his assistant Ellie supplies.

            “That…that can’t be Shaun,” Bobbie manages in a strangled voice. He was still a baby. She couldn’t have been frozen for that long again.

“It still gives us a lead,” Nick reassures her. “Let’s go take a look around his house. I’m sure we can find something there.” She doesn’t know how he does it, but his faith in his lead makes her feel better.

            The mayor gives her the key to Kellogg’s house out of pity, thankfully. Preston was right, she is good with her words. They find Kellogg’s cigars and decide Dogmeat is their best bet at finding him now. “Thank you Nick,” Bobbie says while she scratches the dog behind the ears and nuzzles his face. “I really appreciate your help.”

            He seems pleased at that. “Look, I know this is personal. If you want to go and face him alone, I understand,” he says and ambiguously offers his help to tag along.

            “No I don’t,” she grins and stands up straight. “Come with me, Nick. I’d love to have you along.” She already knows his answer, but she decides to play coy and asks as sweetly as she can.

            He adjusts his fedora and gives her a crooked smile. “Well, if you insist.”

            They make their way out of the city, following the dog as he sniffs the ground for Kellogg’s scent. Nick is quiet for the most part, making odd comments here and there that leave Bobbie laughing or downright confused. For once, she feels the heavy weight on her shoulders lighten just a little. 


	2. Chapter 2

            Bobbie knew Kellogg would be a formidable fighter. What she didn’t know was that he could turn invisible and would have an army of shiny robots fighting for him. Under different circumstances, she would have thanked him for seeing her determination and willpower threatening enough. She does, however, laugh in his face when he gave her the option of leaving. “It _was_ a mistake,” she comments as she takes her laser rifle out and readies it up, “leaving me alive.”

            It was a losing fight at first. Her armor could only take so many bullets before they started piercing her skin. She jammed stimpaks into her bloodstream whenever she could, only to feel her body giving out on her just as quickly as it was rejuvenated. Nick was still shooting, thank God, but there were sparks flying everywhere. It was hard to tell if they were from him or the other synths.

            In a last ditch effort, she injects some Psycho and Med-X. She feels herself roar from the adrenaline, catching Kellogg’s shadow so she could start spraying endless bullets into him. Nick has to remind her that she’s wasting ammo on his dead body once the fight is finished. She’s breathing hard and crying, tears and blood stinging her eyes as she looks down at the bald son of a bitch.

            She drops down onto the floor and clutches her head, screaming in frustration and despair. Nick leaves her be for a moment, walking over to Kellogg’s body to see if he can find anything useful. “Loot the other bodies,” she orders quietly while wiping the blood off her face. Her voice is still low and dangerous. “He’s mine.”

            Bobbie finds cybernetic equipment on him, of course. She scoffs about it not being a fair fight and Nick is glad she’s finally returning to him somewhat. Whenever she has her ‘episodes’ (he discussed this with Piper and Preston back in Sanctuary, how their friend would sometimes become catatonic and just downright scary), her sense of humor was a good indication that she was coming back to her senses. She leaves the mangled body behind to show the synth something interesting. “This was in his brain,” she explains as they both inspect it closely. “Think it’s useful?”

            Nick purses his lips, wondering if he should tell her about The Memory Den. He doesn’t want to get her hopes up, but he feels he owes it to her. “There’s a doctor that might be able to tell you more about this,” he hums and hands the fleshy thing back to her. “Dr. Amari works at this place in Goodneighbor that extracts memories to help you relive them.”

            This intrigues Bobbie more than it should.

 

            She hates the experience. She hates seeing Kellogg as anything other than the monster he was in her eyes. She hates that he has a fucking story to him. She hates that he still manages to get the last word in and leaves her snarling at a confused Nick. “Oh God, I’m sorry,” she sniffs, already tearing up from shame. “Kellogg spoke to me through you. God—“

            “It’s okay, doll,” he reassures her gently and pulls her into a hug. It’s a habit he picked up from her specifically, something he knows comforts volatile humans at moments like this. She needs affection. He knows this now.

 

            Bobbie leaves him in the hotel room they rented out later that night as she ventures back into the Memory Den. Irma looks at her curiously but knows what she is there for. “Go ahead and take a seat. I’ll load up the pod for you.”

            She spends the night in Nate’s arms, making love on her birthday after he had given her the engagement ring. She feels his lips trailing on her skin, leaving her tingling and needy. The world is beautiful again, their bed is new and their sheets are clean. They hear the faint humming of Codsworth far off in the kitchen, busying himself so he doesn’t hear their shenanigans.

           She feels him settle between her legs, pushing inside of her easily and starting to thrust in slow, powerful strokes of his hips. The ecstasy feels so _real_. Her heart hurts during the entire memory. Her consciousness is fighting, trying to alter the memory so she can speak to Nate as she is now. She cups his face, looking stricken and worrying her lovely fiancé. “Honey, what’s wrong?” He asks, sitting up and looking down at her.

            She tries so hard. She tries telling him to build a bunker under their home because their world is going to go to shit. The vaults are not to be trusted. She tries telling him that he will die and their baby is probably dead too. She doesn’t know anymore. But all that comes out of her is a sincere “I love you” and wet kisses all over the hand that had been cupping her breast.

            “I love you so much,” she breathes into his hair once he bent over her, hugging him so tightly she’s sure he’s having trouble breathing. He laughs and kisses her deeply, reminding her of what his lips feel like against hers. It hurts all over again.

            She says goodbye, a real goodbye that she feels in the pit of her stomach, and wakes herself away from the memory, breathing hard with tears streaming down her face. Irma is there waiting for her. She looks like weary, tired. She wouldn’t doubt they get a feed of what she was seeing. “Oh, honey. I wouldn’t recommend doing that again,” she tells her softly as she hands her a tissue. “It either hurts, or it soothes. Soothes so much that you’re stuck in it forever.”

            Bobbie gets what she means. If she could, she would rot away in that pod and never leave Nate’s side. But she knows it’s not real. She knows Shaun is waiting for her out there, somewhere.

 

            Bobbie has grown attached to Goodneighbor. The citizens aren’t annoying and they mind their own business. She met a couple of friendly ghouls, well, _one_ friendly ghoul who she particularly enjoyed. Daisy ran the general goods store, an old-world soul from before the war. They got along amazingly well, reminiscing over the good ol’ days.

            “The library was my place,” Daisy sighs wistfully, leaning over the counter and looking beyond Bobbie for a moment as though she were getting lost in her memories. “I still have an overdue book I want to turn in. The place is full of super mutants, though. Disgraceful bastards.”

            Bobbie grimaces as soon as they were mentioned. They were some of the few creatures she was very hesitant of fighting. It took a bit of coaxing from Piper and Nick, reminding her that they were very stupid and not completely invulnerable. She loved the library too and had no problem clearing it out if Daisy asked. “I used to study there all the time for my bar exam,” she smiles sadly. The shopkeeper seems to understand the silence that followed after that. “I’ll clear it out for you. I owe it to the Library.”

            Daisy practically beams at that. “You’re a good girl, Bobbie Ray,” she reaches out to pat the hand that was resting on the counter. Bobbie hasn’t touched a ghoul before, so she tries not to look startled at the leathery feel. She smiles back though, noticing that Nick had been quietly observing her from the bench outside while he had been smoking a cigarette.

            “Whatcha starin’ at?” She asks as she twirls the overdue book between her fingers, a slight smile on her lips that leaves the robot somewhat relieved.

            “Let me ask you something,” he starts as the smoke billows out through his cheeks.

            “Is something wrong?”

            “Well, I wanted to ask you the same thing. With everything that’s happened with your family…it’s a hell of a lot to process,” he shuffles a bit, nervous. “I wanted to see if you were doing all right.”

            Bobbie doesn’t know what to say at first. She felt this was a conversation to have over some scotch at the Third Rail. “I don’t think it matters anymore,” she shrugs and looks at the ground. “I’m here now. It took me a while to realize this isn’t all just a dream. I just have to cope, I guess.”

            The synth is satisfied with that answer and feels almost sorry for bringing up the sore subject again. He has a feeling, though, that talking about it helps Bobbie get her emotions in check.

            They talk more on their way to the library, with Nick doing most of the talking. She has to hand it to him; he’s one of the friendliest guys she’s met apart from Preston. If she hasn’t made it anymore obvious that she was slightly enamored with the robot, she would have made a spectacular move on him if she hadn’t stepped on a pressure plate that dropped a bundle of frag grenades above them.

 

 

            “I cleared out the library for you,” Bobbie announces when she arrives at Daisy’s store, looking a bit worn and bruised. Nick was sent back to Sanctuary to tend to his wounds while she finished up business at Goodneighbor. She hands her the tokens she received for the overdue books and a few weapons she snagged that she wants to sell. For _bottlecaps_ , she reminds herself distastefully.

            “You go ahead and keep those, dear,” the shopkeeper slides the tokens back towards her. “And here’s a little extra. I couldn’t stand the thought of those mutants ruining a good memory. Thanks again, dear.”

            “Sure thing, Daisy. If you ever wanna chat and share some coffee, I’ll be around,” she grins and rubs her hands together excitedly. “Now let’s do some business.” She wants more caps so she can hire the mercenary down at the Third Rail. He was good-looking, sure, but she mostly wanted to put his shooting to the test. She wouldn’t mind having another rifleman at her side.

            “Alright MacCready, 200 caps,” Bobbie drops a pouch on the end table next to him, putting her hands on her hips expectantly.

            “That’s not gonna fly, girly,” MacCready scoffs. “I said 250.”

            She gives him a sardonic look. “ _Come on._ ”

            Somehow, that did it for him. “Okay, let’s hit the road then,” he says as he gathers his pack and slings it over his shoulder. She tried not to look too displeased, wondering if she could have talked him down to a lower price. “Where we headed off to anyway?”

            “Bobbi No-Nose had a job for me while I was passing by her alley. Sorry to say you won’t be going far just yet,” the survivor chuckles a bit and still finds it amusing that they share the name. “It’s really shady but I just have to see what the hell is up with her.”

            “This is how you get yourself killed, you know,” MacCready mutters, not looking very impressed.

            “I’m still alive, aren’t I?” She raises a brow at him to see if he would challenge that.

            “Good point.”


	3. Chapter 3

            MacCready and Bobbie are not very productive when they travel together. They’re supposed to meet Bobbi No-Nose down at Diamond City, but they keep getting drunk at Oberland Station. Apparently she wants to make sure all the settlers, a whole _two_ settlers, are protected and safe. This doesn’t make much sense since she reluctantly accepted her position as General for the Minutemen (and Preston might love her a little for that). She has a few settlements she’s been taking care of as she travels around the Commonwealth, treating them as little pet projects.

            “Okay, shoot that Bloatfly over there,” she slurs and points half-assedly towards a tree.

            “Now I think you’re just making sh—ugh, stuff up,” MacCready grunts but looks through his scope anyway. She hasn’t commented on his aversion from cursing, too drunk to care at the moment.

            “No, dumbass, it’s right there,” she huffs and flicks the barrel of his gun towards the right. This seems to catch the mercenary by surprise because he suddenly holds his breath and shoots. The sickening crunch and sizzle of the fly dying has her cackling with glee.

MacCready looks smug. “And you thought a little liquor would throw me off my game,” he clicks his tongue and shakes his head in mock disappointment.

            “Well I can do better,” Bobbie pulls out her sniper rifle and pops some gum drops in her mouth. “Hit me, big guy. I’m ready.”

            He looks around and assesses the area, but has nothing in his sights. “I think we’ve shot this place clean,” he sighs and leans back to lay on the sleeping bag they dragged from the settlement. Bobbie rests beside him and takes a deep breath as she looks up at the sky, saying nothing. “So, uh, you’re from way back when, right?”

            She curls her lip a bit but nods affirmatively nonetheless.

            “That’s pretty neat, ya know,” he says and turns his head slightly to look at her. “The only other vault dweller I met wasn’t like you. He actually left his vault to look for his dad. What a lunatic.” She gives him a biting stare that has him laughing so hard, he doesn’t even feel the punch to his stomach.

            “From your time in the Capital Wasteland?” Bobbie sits up and tilts her head in curiosity. It still amazes her that there’s other places in the U.S. that held up, in a matter of speaking. She thought D.C. would have been obliterated from the bombs. “You seem to have a pretty impressive record on you then. Wanna go look for more vault survivors?”

            “Hell no,” he scoffs. “Somehow all the drama in the world travels with you guys.”

            Well, he wasn’t wrong there. “Vault-Tec was…lawfully evil. They were liars looking for experiments,” she munches on some potato crisps bitterly. “I can’t believe those conspiracy theories were right. There were these nerdy guys at Uni saying they were conducting experiments on small colonies of vault dwellers for space exploration and shit. Whatever. Seems like they didn’t last in the end, huh?”

            MacCready shakes his head. He still tries to wrap his head around the fact that Bobbie is very smart. She was a lawyer, knew how to throw around big words and could keep a dead conversation going. She was best at milking caps from vendors when she sold her stuff. It makes up for her weak punches and clumsiness. “Nope, they’re all pretty much in their own special sort of ruin,” he shrugs. “At least from what I’ve heard.”

            She glares at nothing in particular. “Good.”

 

 

 

            They’re _really_ unproductive together. They travel long enough for MacCready to finally ask a favor from her and she agrees to it easily. He’s slightly humbled at the fact that she’s so willing to help him out with this.

            Bobbie doesn’t know much about the Gunners, but she knows they try to kill her on sight. It wouldn’t hurt to get rid of a few more to make her life easier. She also likes MacCready. As much as she loved Nick, the mercenary’s sense of humor made traveling a lot more fun. Even the walk to the highway was light and easy, no sign of anxiety from them both as they neared their next big battle.

            Once they’re all dealt with, MacCready decides he should never fuck with Bobbie Ray. “Here, I think I owe you your caps,” he hands her a tin full with the 200 caps she had bought him off with.

            “Awe, sweet,” she grins brightly and shows off her eerily perfect teeth. “You don’t have to, babe. I just wanted to help out.”

            “I know, but I still want to even things out,” he insists and hands her the tin anyway. “I’ve still got your back since that was part of the deal anyway. Good deal?”

            In all honesty, she wasn’t all too reluctant to take the caps back. She’s 200 caps richer and decides it’s finally time to finish up Bobbi No-Nose’s job. She hopes it’s enough to buy herself a suit of power armor before she ventures out to the Glowing Sea.

 

 

            The whole mission was a dud. She should have known Bobbi was a crook, leading them directly into the Mayor’s storeroom. What the hell could the ghoul have expected? There was no siding with her, no matter how great the loot could have been. That’s not the way she operated.

            Miraculously, she convinces Bobbi to leave for her own sake and saves them all from a nasty firefight. On her way back to Goodneighbor, she silently hopes that the Mayor would offer some sort of reward. Yeah, she got the enormous minigun that she can hardly carry, but her greedy ass needs more money damn it.

            “Chin-up, pal,” MacCready pats her shoulder as they near the Old State House. “I’m sure he has something to give you after saving his stash.”

            And he does. He gives her 200 caps and the strange offer of companionship. “You’re the mayor,” Bobbie says slowly. “You can’t just leave Goodneighbor.”

            “And why not?” Hancock counters easily. “I’m a firm believer that no one in power should be comfortable for too long.” He says he’s too pampered, too comfortable. She thinks he’s nuts. MacCready is right there with her, but he really isn’t surprised. Staying in this settlement really opened his eyes to how carefree their mayor was.

            Bobbie decides having Hancock on her side wouldn’t be so bad. If she was going to make the trek through the Glowing Sea, it wouldn’t hurt to have one more companion that was immune to the radiation. And he’s very charming, she notices. It’s hard to understand what attracts her to him so much. He was a ghoul, something she was still trying to get used to. Her conversations with Daisy hadn’t left her jaded just yet. He also introduced himself by stabbing a guy to death as soon as she entered the city. That still has her mind reeling.

            She sends MacCready back to Sanctuary while she settles things with Hancock. It was time to lay down some ground rules. “If you’re going to travel with me, try not to stab people that seem the least bit intimidating,” she tells him on their way to the hotel. “I could have handled him myself, you know.”

            The ghoul smirks a bit. “So you’re still hung up on that, huh?” He drawls as he holds open the door for her. “Listen, he was a thorn in my ass. He just gave me the opportunity to get rid of him.”

            Bobbie just stares at him. “Is that how you operate?”

            “I don’t go on murder sprees, if that’s what you’re asking,” he says. “If it wasn’t you, it would have been someone who couldn’t handle themselves. That I won’t stand for.”

            Okay, he has a point there. That quiets her for a bit. “Alright, you got me,” she huffs and crosses her arm as she looks around the hotel lobby. “Now just use your mayoral affluence to convince the lady to let me go back up to my room. I need to pick up a few things.”

            Hancock shrugs at the easy task. He’s on good terms with Clair, but realizes she’s sneaking off (poorly) while he chats her up. He ends the conversation quickly and catches up to her, seeing that she’s stumbled across the mopey ghoul that housed himself there. They’re both frozen in place, the ghoul pointing an accusing finger at her.

            “What? No it can’t…It…It’s you! From Sanctuary Hills, right?!” The ghoul exclaims.

            It takes Bobbie a second to register what he’s saying until Hancock sees her eyes widen. “Wait, no way… Are you from Vault-Tec?” Suddenly, there’s a flash of anger in her eyes. There must be some sort of vendetta that she’s about to act on, but the Vault-Tec rep just keeps going on his rant.

            “200 years and you’re still perfect! How?!” The ghoul practically yells.

            She looks at Hancock hesitantly before answering. “They had these pods that froze us in place,” she explains calmly enough. “I only thawed out recently.”

            “Wait, wait, wait,” the other ghoul interrupts. “You’re over 200 years old? How in the hell--?”

            The Vault-Tec rep ignores him and continues his rant, breaking down into a sad display of bitterness and disappointment. Bobbie feels her anger disappear only to be replaced with empathy. She knows it’s not his fault. He was as clueless as she was. While she was frozen, he dealt with the nastiness above ground first-hand. She honest to God felt for him, and a little part of her was pissed off that she could direct _some_ anger towards him.

            “I’m so sorry,” she says to him with a sincere expression. “I didn’t know this would happen.” Even Hancock starts to pity the ghoul as he goes on about how lonely he’s been. It doesn’t mask the utter bewilderment at his companion’s predicament, though. He has so many questions he wants to ask her, so many pre-war drugs he has to know about. This put her into an entirely different perspective for him. “You could head back to Sanctuary. I’ll come visit. I promise.”

            The ghoul visibly brightens at that. “Really? You will?” He asks hesitantly. Before she could respond, he ushers his agreement excitedly. “Alright, I’ll head over there now. You promise to visit, right? Okay, I’ll see you there. You promised, okay!”

            They both watch the ghoul hurry out of the hotel with no bags, nothing. Bobbie doesn’t know how she should feel, but she cries anyway. It’s like her automatic response when she’s faced with any sort of pre-war memory. “Just…Just give me a minute, okay?” She tells Hancock as she dabs her eyes with a handkerchief. “One thing you’ll find out about me is that I’m a big baby that cries often.”

            Hancock shuffles awkwardly, not sure of what to do. He supposes he should save his questions for later. “Hey, don’t worry about it,” he manages. “Take as much time as you need, doll. I’ll be right here.”

            But she’s already stopping the tears and straightening up. She gets what she needs from her hotel room and makes her way out, letting Hancock know that she wants to stop by the Memory Den for just a second. She gives Irma a gift of wine and a fancy hair brush. There’s a silent exchange between them both that leaves Hancock wondering how many friends this girl has in the Commonwealth like this.

            After she finishes talking to Kent Connolly, he sees just how amiable she can be. She proves that yes, she really was born before the war by chatting about this “Silver Shroud” radio show Kent never shuts up about.

            “You keep surprising me and it hasn’t even been half an hour,” he says as they start to head to the Commonwealth.

            “What, you didn’t expect this to be a fun ride?” She looks at him over her shoulder and quirks a brow.

            The ghoul chuckles at that. He knows his decision to follow her is probably going to be the most monumental in his life, aside from the whole ghoulifying-drug fiasco. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone that's reading this! My stories always start off slow so I appreciate you bearing with me. :)


	4. Chapter 4

                Whenever Bobbie hangs out with Cait, she feels like a teenager again. Her rebellious phase flourishes again and she’s sneaking around camp to go drink and shoot up by the river. Aside from Hancock, Cait was always up to spend a high with her. She watches as she injects a thick needle into her vein and injects the Psycho into her blood stream. She breathes so hard that she almost foams at the mouth. She loves it.

            “Where’d you get your accent anyway?” Bobbie asks, putting off the jet so she can have an actual conversation.

            “What?” Cait responds a little too loudly, looking wild and much too aware.

            “Your accent,” she says again and matches her tone. “Why is it Irish if you’re in Boston? I figured foreign exchange programs would be canceled after a nuclear war.”

            Cait laughs at that and punches Bobbie in the arm hard enough to make her hiss and whine. “Yer a funny one, ain’t ya?” She drawls with a smile. “That what it sounds like to you?”

            She gives her a funny look and wondered if that was a serious question. “Scottish? Or maybe Irish,” she mutters mostly to herself. “I always get those two confused.”

            The other lays back on the grass and kicks her feet in the loose dirt, trying to loosen the wound up energy inside her. “Beats me, darlin’,” she hums finally. “I got it from my parents. Didn’t care enough to find out where they got it from.” She didn’t have to say any more than that. Bobbie got her point loud and clear. She figures it’s something she can find out herself later on. Now she was concerned she had given her friend a bad high.

            Bobbie lays down next to her and rests her head on her chest, cuddling in close to her and sighing in relief. Cait never minded having her nuzzle her breasts and using them as pillows as long as she could do it in return. Sometimes they would kiss, like they were doing right now, but it never really meant anything. Just light touches here and there, pecks that kept them grounded from their overstimulating highs. They just had to touch because everything felt so good. They’ve never taken it too far, though. They both flirt way too much and knew they wouldn’t last in a romantic relationship. One was too brutish, the other too sensitive.

            Piper, on the other hand, was a perfect match for Cait. At least, in Bobbie’s opinion she was. She was headstrong and could handle the fighter’s banter easily. She’s seen the way they’ve looked at each other in passing glances. It had her wondering if they’re just keeping themselves a secret or something. The reporter insists that nothing is going on, deflecting Cait’s advances with a snarky “in your dreams” that leaves them both snickering. There had to be something there. Even _Codsworth_ teased them, though it may have been inadvertent on his part.

            It works somehow. Cait and Bobbie give each other that extra bit of affection they need and no one really bats an eye. Was there sex? Not yet, maybe. But they didn’t need it. She liked Cait’s company and that was enough. Most of her other friends weren’t so close to her to start cuddling her when she needed it. Nick did return her hugs whenever he could, but he was stiff and unsure. Maybe it was the synth in him still getting accustomed to that human behavior. She had to give it to him for trying though.

             

           

            One of Bobbie’s main downfalls is her frugality. She sees the big airship fly overhead, amazed that such technology managed to survive 200 years later. Actually, she had never even seen these planes before. “They must have been prototypes,” she ponders wondrously as she trudged through a grassy plane. A smaller plane, (a Vertibird, according to Hancock) lands near them and drops off a few soldiers in heavy power armor. They never bother to them.

            The first Brotherhood soldier she meets is actually the worst. She decides she dislikes Paladin Danse very much, given that he immediately pointed his gun at her and accused her of being a Chinese spy. “Who are you working for?! What’s your mission here?!” He yells and they’re officially in a Mexican standoff.

            “What the fuck?” Bobbie deadpans and looks at Hancock, who simply grins and shakes his head. “I’m like, half Korean you idiot.” They stare at each other for a few moments before the Paladin lowers his gun reluctantly.

            “You can never be too sure,” he mutters and eyes them both suspiciously. “Though I suppose I should thank you.”

            Bobbie glares at him even more. “You suppose?”

            “Thank you,” Paladin Danse says with an air of finality. From there, it’s light treading between them both. Danse can sense that he’s already rubbed her the wrong way, and her grudges can get intense. She decides to help him anyway, since she wants a ticket up to that flying ship.

            “I cannot believe people are still racist,” she mutters to Hancock as they clear out a factory of Institute synths. “Did he seriously think I was a spy? After a 200 year war, he thinks there’s Chinese spies still trying to ruin a country that’s already shit?”

            “How many times do I have to apologize?” Danse sighs behind them.

            “You shut your mouth,” she snaps over her shoulder. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

            Hancock is chuckling at them both. “Relax, doll,” he says and puts a hand on her shoulder. “He was on edge, you were on edge, and you guys got off to a bad start.” Of course he tries to play devil’s advocate. If he had to travel with these two for the next day or two, he wanted as little complaining as possible.

            Bobbie huffs and ignores Danse for the rest of their journey. She still doesn’t budge when he invites her on to the Prydwen. Maybe she softens a little when he vouches for her to join the Brotherhood of Steel because hey, free power armor. When she’s all suited up, she leaves for her next mission, totally ignoring Danse’s request to follow her.

 

           

            Bobbie eventually comes back to the Prydwen and takes Danse along with her for a specific mission that requires his expertise. She wants to fix her power armor, but the engineer lady on their ship hates her. She probably caught on to her distaste for her favorite Paladin and won’t teach her anything. “You want to make the chest piece to be…round?” Danse says slowly as she hammers away at the metal.

            “I want it to be clear that I’m a woman,” she huffs and holds up the piece after she’s repaired it poorly. “I’m joking. Just teach me the basics. I never dealt with this sort of technology.” She stops what she’s doing to give him a look of sincerity. The piece on her workbench just looks bad, he can’t refuse to help.  

            “Well…I can do that,” Danse finally says but still looks hesitant.

 

 

            Hancock stares at her ass. He stares at her ass _a lot_. Maybe he thinks he can get away with it because it’s a little hard to tell with his beady ghoul eyes but she knows. She hasn’t said anything yet, but chances are the deep red splotches on her freckled cheeks give her away. She’s not sure how to approach him. She’s still trying to figure out whether her attraction is curiosity or genuine interest in him. She hates to admit it, but she doesn’t know if a relationship with a ghoul is even possible. She’s too embarrassed to ask.

Bobbie is relieved when he comes up to her one night. She saves the power armor for the Glowing Sea, preparing all her other things for the big radiation trip. She decides she wants the mayor with her after all.

            “Why not Nick?” He asks curiously when he stands next to her as she sorts out her ammo and choice weapons.

            “Do you not want to go?” She shoots back and raises a brow.

            “Of course I do,” he says quickly. A little too quickly. “I just figured you’d take the detective with you since he’s your favorite and all.”

            She gasps and drops her pistol. “He is _not_ ,” she blushes and looks around. “Who’s been saying that? I love all of you guys. There’re no favorites here.” She bets it was MacCready. He’s been a little salty since she’s been taking out Hancock and Valentine more often.

            “Oh please, it’s common knowledge!” He scoffs and crosses his arms over his chest. “You hang on to his every word and demand a hug from him whenever you come back to Sanctuary.”

            “I hug everyone,” she corrects. “Everyone that will let me. This is ridiculous. I feel bullied.”

            Hancock is laughing so loud now. Some of the sleeping settlers shush him angrily. “Admit you have a crush on him,” he teases. “Save yourself the trouble of denial.”

            “Oh my god!” The ghoul starts poking her sides, and Bobbie realizes this is full-on flirting. She becomes even more flustered and it only takes a bit more pestering for her to realize that’s what he wants. “Okay! I have a tiny crush on Nick Valentine,” she mutters below her breath so no one else will hear. Hancock looks smug and she wants to punch him. “Listen, it’s more of like…an admiration. He’s just so nice and sweet. He makes me forget he’s a synth. He’s just…so…I don’t know.”

            She must look like a splotchy mess now, rubbing the back of her neck to keep her idle hands busy. Hancock almost feels bad. “So you’re not trying to get at him?” He asks, leaning a bit closer.

            “I’ve flirted with him plenty,” she admits with a sigh. “Either he’s totally clueless or is turning me down super gently. I’m not sad about it, though. It’s not like I want it to go anywhere. I still—well, you know.” She still misses Nate. She still wears her wedding ring. She still locks herself in Shaun’s room some nights and gets so wasted the room reeks two houses down. Piper tells him she hears her play the same holotape again and again. But that was a discussion for another time.

            The ghoul visibly frowns and sits down on a nearby couch. He pats the seat next to him for her to sit and she does so obediently. He tries not to stiffen when she leans into him so quickly, her trust becoming somewhat of a treasure to him. “Nick thinks the world of you so far,” he tells her gently. “Trust me when I say that he gave us all a talk before we ever head out with you.”

            Bobbie doesn’t know why he’s telling her this. She’s not particularly sad, definitely not crying visibly. Is it that easy to notice her deep-pitted unhappiness? “Really?” She asks hopefully. “That’s nice. It’s nice to have someone looking out for you.”

            The ghoul rumbles a sort of agreement. “Yeah, definitely,” he snorts. He knows the feeling. He hasn’t felt as secure as he had with her at his side. “It’s pretty damn great to travel with a partner again.” Especially after her complete understanding of the necessary actions he had to take to become mayor.

            They stay silent for a few minutes. She looks through her Pip-Boy nervously before she balls up and speaks again. “So, uh, can I ask you something?”

            Hancock looks at her questioningly. This looks like it’s going to be good.

            “One night, I snuck into Irma’s room after a night of drinks and looked in her terminal,” she starts and looks at him, already seeing a cheeky grin on his face. “She said something about your memories. Apparently, you were pretty hot before you became a ghoul. Not that you aren’t handsome now.”

            He snorts and nudges her slightly. “Come on, no need to lie,” he says teasingly.

            “I’m really not,” she admits before she can stop herself. “You’re attractive, Hancock. Maybe you are looking a bit rough but you carry yourself well.” She tries so hard to not sound confused, because she is confused over how handsome she finds him. She doesn’t know how to put it into words. The ghoul can’t help but find it endearing.

            “Well gee, thanks,” he says with a sly smile. “I could swear you’re flirting with me.”

            She sniffs haughtily. “Am not,” she denies half-heartedly. “But seriously, I’m just…curious. What were you like? What happened? You’re not as old as Daisy.”

            He has to pause for a moment because that’s a pretty serious question. When he considers how much information he should give her, he chastises himself for the trust issues. There she was with his arm around her shoulder, looking up at him expectantly while he idly twirled his combat knife in his other hand. What is there not to trust? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just had to touch up on Danse's itty bitty racism when he meets Taka in Diamond City. :')


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me forever to get this chapter out! I haven't proofread it yet, so please forgive my procrastination a bit until I read over it again. Cheers!

            “Okay,” Bobbie straightens up on her couch, putting her bottle of beer on the coffee table and letting out a little burp. “Fuck, marry, kill—uh, Cait, Valentine, and MacCready.” She grins in total satisfaction at the options she offered Piper. There’s no way the drunk reporter would be weaseling herself out of this now.

            “Come on Blue,” Piper whines and wipes the foam off her upper lip. “You always include Cait in these games. Stop that.”

            She shook her head stubbornly. “No way, Wright. This is all about honesty and you’ve been lying all this time.” Because she knows they’ve already kissed. Cait told her a few days ago during one of their raid runs. Now she was unwinding before her big trip to the glowing sea tomorrow, and she was determined to see this playout cutely before anything major happened. Like dying.

            “Fuck Cait, marry Nick, kill MacCready,” the reporter mutters under her breath so Bobbie really had to strain and catch what she was saying.

            “Aha! But Nick is taken by me so you, by default, marry and fuck Cait,” she says with a smug smile. Piper rolls her eyes and takes a shot of vodka anyway. She knew better than to fight against Bobbie’s intuition.

            “Are you ready for tomorrow, B?” Piper asks as she drunkenly repositions herself on the couch. “It’s a big day.”

            Bobbie doesn’t let her smile fall so easy. “I’m ready,” she answers with determination. “I didn’t spend weeks building up settlements and running errands to not have this.” Shaun had to be out there too. She saw him in Kellogg’s memories, saw him alive and much older than she could have imagined. But she was ready to have her baby again. She was ready to take care of her family.

            “Are you sure about taking Hancock?” The reported wonders, not really directing the question at her. She seems to be calculating their outcome, and she can’t really complain about the results.

            “I mean, he’s a ghoul so all the rads won’t really do much,” Bobbie shrugs. “And he’s a good partner.”

            “Nick and Codsworth aren’t bothered by rads either, ya know,” she chimes. “You’re playing favorites.” The survivor huffs in exasperation. She already had this argument with Hancock. There’s no way she’s having it again. “Fine. Fuck, marry, kill: Valentine, Hancock, and MacCready.”

            Bobbie scoffs. “Easy,” she rubs her hands together with a devious grin. “Fuck Hancock, marry Valentine, kill MacCready.”

            There’s an immediate gasp somewhere from outside. “Kill me?! Wow, consider this friendship over Bobbie.”

            She laughs so hard that night, she’s sure that’s what made her hangover ten times worse.

 

 

            Virgil is the first super mutant Bobbie has met that reminded her they were once regular human beings. His consciousness was still with him, and his grasp of the English language left her feeling completely put off by their conversation. Hancock felt weirdly put off as well.

            The Children of Atom didn’t pay them any mind as they trudged through irradiated valley back to their home in Sanctuary. Bobbie had all the information she needed, but now she felt like she was opening Pandora ’s Box. Losing her son had somehow led to the infiltration of an elusive institution that built state-of-the-art robots. What in the world did they want with Shaun?

            “You seem awfully quiet there, doll,” Hancock drawls after a long bout of silence. They’ve finally gotten out of the worst of the irradiated zone and Bobbie had gotten her helmet off. He’s twirling his knife between his fingers, something he only really did when he was bored (or trying not to look at the sweat rolling down her neck).

            “I’m just trying to wrap my head around it all,” she mutters and suddenly feels frustrated with how hot her power armor was. Stupid Danse. Why couldn’t he fix the AC correctly? “I feel like I’m getting more and more tangled in the spider’s web. Something’s gonna eat me, man.”

            Hancock scoffs. “Must be the chems.”

            Bobbie shakes her head, gives him a strange look that makes him more serious. “I’m serious, Hancock. There’s going to be an even bigger shit storm ahead of us,” she sighs and closes her eyes, rests as soon as they reach an abandoned gas station by curling up on a sleeping bag inside the garage.

            “I can feel it too,” Hancock admits. “But what can I say? I attract all the juicy drama.”

            That cracks a smile out of her. There’s another victory for him. “Do you think everything will be okay?” She asks tentatively. He has caught her asking him these sorts of things before despite knowing the answer that always comes out of him. He knows it’s for reassurance.

            “Hell yeah it will,” the ghoul scoffs. “You think I’d be throwing myself into hopeless situations?”

            She gives him somewhat of a droll look. “Er, well, is that a serious question?”

            He simply stares back at her before a sheepish grin breaks out on his lips. Bobbie smiles back at him and tucks a strand of black hair behind her ear. She had to have been doing it on purpose, he thinks. “It’s really nice when you smile, ya know?” He hums thoughtlessly, sliding into his own sleeping bag.

            “You think so?” She stretches and leans on her side to get a better look at him. “MacCready says it creeps him out sometimes because my teeth are so straight. Guess they don’t have many dentists out here in the Commonwealth, huh?”

            Hancock snuffs a bit at that. “Nope. Doctors only treat toothaches that usually lead to less teeth.” He remembers when they yanked out his brother’s rotting tooth when they were younger and how much hell that gave them for the following weeks. It was his fault for putting his fingers on so many Sugar Bombs.

            “Ouch, that’s tough love,” Bobbie grimaces.

            “Tell me about it. Everybody takes care of themselves well enough to have to deal with it anyway. Except for the junkies of course.” He flashes her a grin of his own, not shy at all of his not-so-pretty teeth.

            She doesn’t seem perturbed at all, laughing even more and rolling onto her back. “Oh you’re good,” she breathes once she catches up with herself.

            “I’ve heard that one before, if you know what I mean?” His black eyes crinkle from his own wide smile when she laughs even more—actually, it’s a giggle by now. That’s the best kind of laugh in his opinion.

            When she quiets suddenly, he wonders if he should be concerned his charm has worn off. She’s looking at the ceiling thoughtfully, her gaze intent enough to give him the hint to keep quiet for a moment. She wasn’t sad or anything, not about to have a crying episode she usually gets.

            At that moment, laughing with Hancock and looking at him as something other than a ghoul that just happened to want to travel with her, she felt her heart constrict. The way he made her feel lighter when she was so heavy, the ease when traveling with him—she shouldn’t say it. She knows it’s wrong, but it reminds her of her time with Nate.

            All that time stressing over the bar exam and crying over her grades, Nate made her _laugh_. He made everything feel so much better.

            Bobbie knows Hancock is different. This feeling he gives her is different. But the way he makes her feel that deep down things will end up being just fine, just hits too close to home.

            She sits up suddenly and reaches for her pack, digging around until she finds what she needs. Hancock, who has been watching her like a hawk, gives her a sly smile when he sees the Med-X needle. “Let’s mine-proof this garage then have a good night’s sleep.”

            He hauls himself up and stands, already reaching for the mines she offered him. “Way ahead of ya, sweetheart.”

 

 

            When Hancock wakes up the next morning, he immediately notices Bobbie’s sleeping bag is empty. He also notices the amazing smell of freshly cooked food wafting in the air. He puts on his coat and heads out of the garage, catching sight of the other bent over a cooking fire she had set up early in the morning. “How in the hell did you wake up early enough after last night?”

            Bobbie grins and shrugs. “It’s just something I do, I guess,” she hums and looks down at the food she’s stirring. “I went with the safest option and made vegetable stew with some cow meat.”

            Hancock knows better than to correct her by now, so he simply sits across from her and watches. He sees the coffee pot hovering next to a smaller bundle of twigs, boiling with some coffee beans she got at Diamond City. “It all smells pretty good, B,” he says while trying not to sound too surprised. “Thanks for this.”

            “No problem honey,” she responds automatically, not even noticing her little slip up as she started to serve the stew in two bowls.

            The ghoul doesn’t say anything, though he does give her a few weird glances here and there. When he catches her eyes and sees her blush, he thinks it’s all okay again.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tibetan Buddhism talks about an intermediate state after death, and how it lasts about 40 days, and that you can help your loved one get through this difficult transition by thinking of them. They call it Bardo.

            Bobbie is truly exhausted. She has gathered enough information to know that the courser she is hunting down will truly be a challenge. But right now, she just wants to go to bed. She drops all the heavy equipment inside their proper trunks, half-heartedly greets whoever speaks to her, and just flops down onto her bed. The sweat and grime hasn’t been wiped off her face but she doesn’t care.

            She sleeps soundly until her dreams get the best of her. She sweats profusely, her breaths coming hard and fast as she reaches the crescendo of her current vision. Sean is just out of her reach, he’s crying, she feels like she’s falling every time she manages to get close. She likely won’t remember her dream now that she’s doubling over and throwing up whatever meal she had two days ago. Except there’s nothing but acid.

            She feels a warm hand brushing her hair back, helping her as she got over her sickness. There are already tears and snot sliding down her face, but that’s wiped away too. The hand feels rough and leathery as it brushes against her forehead.

            “She’s not used to all the radiation in this wasteland,” she hears Curie explain to whoever was in the room, because even in her sick stupor she knows she’s probably being observed by everyone. “She just needs some RadAway. Here, help me inject it.”

            It’s Hancock that snorts and snaps Bobbie back to reality somewhat. “I don’t think that’s the case, Frenchie,” he explains as he brushes her hair back while she wretched some more. “She’s having the shakes. She needs some Addictol.”

            Bobbie wipes her mouth and groans, laying back on her bed and letting herself recover. “Just give me both,” she pleads. “And some whiskey. I need it all.”

            The ghoul stands and goes towards the first aid box in her room, gathering everything she requested. She sat up well enough to start helping Curie (who was left hanging by the other, rudely enough) with the RadAway so she could start injecting herself. She feels a wave nausea again but swallows it down until the whole pack was in her bloodstream.

            “Does that feel better?” Curie asks sweetly, hovering closer now.

            “A little,” Bobbie sighs and lays down, staring at the rusted ceiling she built over her bedroom. Hancock hands her the Addictol and his own bottle of whiskey, sitting on the edge of her bed with an expectant face. She takes everything in stride, taking large gulps of the whiskey and grimacing. “Ugh… where is everyone?”

            The ghoul shrugs. “Helping you out, I guess,” he answers. “They’re either tending to the crops or helping the provisioners.”

            She rubs the sleep out of her eyes and manages to sit herself up. “How long was I out?” She notices how dark it is outside and realizes she slept much more than she thought.

            “Almost 22 hours,” Curie answers.

            “Fuck,” she hisses and runs her fingers through her hair. “I have to get going. I spent way too much time doing nothing.”

            Hancock stops her from moving any further than sitting up. “No can do, doll,” he says with a grin. “You haven’t even given that Addictol time to settle.” He ignores the dirty look she gives him, but she doesn’t put much effort to protest anyway.

            She sits there, staring at her calloused and scarred hands with a blank expression. She finally blinks when the pounding in her head subsides and the nausea becomes minimal. Her head turns to look at Hancock. “I’ve been acting weird lately, haven’t I?” She murmurs a little too quietly.

            The ghoul still catches it. “Well, I wasn’t gonna say anything but now that you mention it…” he trails off and scratches the back of his neck, “you can’t sleep without screaming at least once, or yelling out your husband’s name.” He stops himself from mentioning the moments when she becomes a picturesque house-wife, cooking meals for him and giving him pet names that surely only belonged to her late husband. She gets the picture, he hopes.

            Bobbie drops her head into her hands and lets out a deep breath. Of course this is happening all over again. She used to take medicine for this, but now she doesn’t know if she’ll find anything like it in this wasteland. “Sorry, I—I’m sorry,” she sighs and clears her thoughts. “I’m just still getting used to all of this, I guess.”

            The ghoul rests a hand on her blanketed knee and nods. “We get it. It’s not everyday someone is frozen for two centuries only to wake up to this,” he flashes her a smile, as though he were using himself as an example. “Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

            Bobbie manages to give him a look that’s anything other than pained. “Thanks, Hancock,” she says sincerely. “For taking care of me and everything. You too, Curie.” She had reminded herself that she still has to work on getting her a new body, but she has a lot on her plate right now to know where to even begin.

            She blames waking up to this old new world for her nightmares, but she doesn’t tell anyone her mind is still fixated on Nate. Almost every night, it’s a blissful dream. It wasn’t until recently that she gets panicked when she realizes everything is not real and that she will lose him upon waking. Now, she has the image of little boy Sean taunting her.

            Bobbie feels like she’s going crazy.

 

 

            The courser was dead. There was a bloody trail of Gunners from the top of the building to the very entrance. She must’ve been a sight for the capture synth, but she still manages some pleasantries before releasing her. She looks at her Pip-Boy and sees how much time has passed since she first left the vault.

            “38 days,” she mutters to herself. MacCready looks up at her quizzically, still working on sorting out the junk she spitefully gave him after some complaining. “It’s only been 38 days since I turned this Pip-Boy on.”

            He cocks his head and thinks really hard about that, because it honestly doesn’t seem right. “It feels way longer than that,” he says.

            “I know,” Bobbie sighs and wipes the sweat and blood off her forehead. “I’ve been working pretty fast. Now I get to decide who I wanna take this little piece of work to.” She holds up the chip she ripped out of the courser’s head, wiping off the weird grit and flesh off. She wishes she was technically adept enough to know how to decrypt it herself. She really wasn’t in the mood to make allegiances just yet, especially the Brotherhood.

            “Maybe ask Sturges if he can help you out,” MacCready offers once he’s all done packing himself up.

            She shakes her head, defeated. “No, he doesn’t know much about Institute tech,” she sighs and runs her hands through her hair. “Maybe Dr. Amari? She helped me last time with Kellogg.”

            He shrugs and gives the idea a half-nod. “Worth a try.”

 

 

            Dr. Amari is no help. She admits that she doesn’t have the proper technology to analyze something of that caliber, but she knows someone who’s the next best bet. It requires the help of The Railroad, the underground movement that everyone seems to either rally behind or scorn. Bobbie still hasn’t decided what to think of them, but Nick seems to like them.

            Hancock is sitting with her at the bar, having a drink as she contemplates very hard about what to do next. “What’s got you so conflicted? As far as I know, there’s only one move right now,” he huffs as he takes a generous sip of his vodka.

            She gives him a sardonic look from the corner of her eye. “They aren’t just going to let me in their HQ and do me this solid,” she grumbles irritably. “As a lawyer, I know favors as heavy as these come with liabilities. They’re going to want something.”

            She had a point there, he agreed. He wants to say that he might have seen some people come in and out of Goodneighbor looking awfully suspicious, but nobody really has the right to ask drifters there what they’re in town for. They’re all pretty much off the radar or too far gone to care what their presence matters in the Commonwealth anymore.

            “Listen,” he starts and lowers his voice so only she can hear. “There’s a trail outside of our gates that I never questioned. It’s supposed to lead you to somewhere you need to be. You just gotta follow it.”

            Bobbie stares at the ghoul for a long, silent moment. “Are you talking about that red line that goes all through the financial district?” Because she has most definitely seen it before. She’s just decidedly never thought anything of it.

            Hancock chuckles to himself and nods. “You remember that tour bot you made a point to ignore in the Boston Common?”

            She gapes at him, because she remembers so clearly. “Yeah, because a _behemoth_ decided to jump out of a fucking pond and start attacking us,” she hisses at the memory. She was not ashamed to admit she peed herself a little.

            “Well, it just so happens that the tour bot gives you information on the Freedom Trail,” he says and trails off, letting her connect the dots herself. He couldn’t have been more vaguely obvious.

            “Follow the Freedom Trail,” she mutters to herself, staring off into space again.

 

 

            It’s day 40 and Bobbie has decided she would like to get a good night’s sleep before she starts her quest to find The Railroad. She drugs herself as much as she can to make the dreams of Nate stop, but it was to no avail.

            In a hazy vision, she sees herself in her home. It was pristine and beautiful, looking as fresh as it was before the bombs fell. She’s standing by their book case, looking at all the photographs lined neatly on each shelf. There’s Nate and her on their first date, their first kiss, the proposal, the wedding…every good memory she can remember is there on display for her.

            Nate emerges from their room and stands next to her to admire the pictures as well. There’s a peaceful smile on his face that puts her at ease. He sees her staring and beams even brighter now, making her heart beat so steadily. She feels at peace.

            “It’s been fun, Bobbie Ray,” he says in his soft voice, pulling her into a hug and kissing her temple. “I have to go now.”

            She can’t speak, and for the first time she finds that she has nothing to say. She watches him open their front door, a massive blinding light engulfing her vision as he steps into it.

            She blinks her eyes open, staring up at the mottled ceiling of Hotel Rexford as she lies awake now. Her mind is clear, her breathing even, and she knows now that she is okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, so sorry for the obnoxiously long delay in getting this next chapter out. Work and school has had me extremely stressed, so my heart wasn't in it anymore. But here I am, offering a change of pace. Thank you.


	7. Chapter 7

                Something shifts in all the settlements after Bobbie returns from her pilgrimage to the Railroad. She brings back quite the character. His name is Deacon, and he can never keep still so he insists that he goes with her whenever she’s on a mission. It really unsettles Hancock. He has a feeling that Deacon has no sort of attachment to Bobbie like he thinks he does. The guy is a habitual liar and she knows it. There’s no way she would go for him.

            But he sees them by the cooking stove, laughing about some stupid joke he probably told her that he just happened to pull out of his ass. It really irks him. Cait seems to have noticed this because she can’t seem to stop making fun of him. “You know you could just go over there,” she comments when she’s had enough of his glowering. “I’m sure she’d love the company.”

            Hancock clicks his tongue in annoyance.

            “Oh come on,” she scoffs and sits up on the couch. “The Hancock I know doesn’t sit by idly like this. Seriously, go make a fuckin’ move already.” She sounds exasperated and annoyed. She’s had enough of their dancing around each other. 

            He knows she’s right. He can’t pinpoint the time when he felt himself getting attached to their drug-loving vault dweller. Every time she’d put herself on her chem binges, he couldn’t help but see a little bit of himself in her. He’s seen the vulnerable side of her that wasn’t drugged up, the loving and the trusting side… he couldn’t have someone like Deacon take advantage of her.

            Hancock heaves himself up off his seat and walks in their direction determinedly. Deacon is the first to look up at him quizzically, probably getting the vibe that the ghoul didn’t like his presence. Bobbie looks his way when she notices the pause in their conversation. “Is everything alright?” She asks carefully, standing up and meeting his beady stare.

            “Yeah. Just uh… is now a good time to talk?” He rubs the back of his neck, hoping she wouldn’t turn him away now.

            “Yeah… are you sure everything’s okay?” Bobbie looks at Deacon and gives him an apologetic look. “Finish up dinner for me, yeah? We’ll talk later. Come on, Hancock, we can head to my house.”

            The ghoul feels embarrassed now but he did a good job of hiding it. “It ain’t anything bad,” he starts to ease her anxiety. “Just been thinking about how you took care of Bobbi. I ain't proud of having to put you through that.” He feels silly just saying it now that he reflects on it. Where is he going with this?

            Bobbie gives him a look, crossing her legs once she sits down on her couch and pats the spot next to her. “Did you and Bobbi have something going on?” She can’t help but be suspicious with how Hancock was bringing this up.

            He bursts out laughing and shakes his head. “No, of course not,” he snorts and looks away. “Geez, nothing like that. I just hate…I hate when guys like me use their sway to cause that kind of harm, ya know?” He gets serious now when he really things about how shitty he felt. Before he knew it, everything was spilling out of him. What Vic did to the people of Goodneighbor, how guilty he felt standing by as the drifters were torn apart, how he became mayor… It was a whole new side of him he had been keeping to himself.

            “I vowed that day that I wouldn’t just stand by anymore,” he looks down at the floor, twirls his knife between his fingers before looking her in the eye again. “You were right when you said slavery was wrong that day, with that Railroad woman. I was hoping that would be the first thing to come out of your mouth.”

            Bobbie huffs out a laugh and looks at him with a chagrined smile. “Finally, my law degree helped me to some degree in this wasteland,” she sighs and rests her feet on the desolate coffee table across from them. “We constantly talked about ethical dilemmas. At first, I thought it was so wild that there was an underground railroad for robots. Back in my day, the idea of synthetic humans was just so incredibly impossible. But seeing Nick, seeing all these different _people_ that were built from wires and plastic having some capacity for emotion…it’s just wrong to not give them rights of their own when human beings were the ones that forced them onto this world.”

            She grimaces and quickly takes out some Mentats, trying to calm a headache that had been building up all day. Hancock stays quiet for the most part.

            “If you worked so hard to become mayor, why did you decide to leave?” She asks him quietly, looking at him with calm eyes that eased him as well.

            “I’m not the pondering type,” he says. “Instinct said I should join up with you. Seems it was a good one.”

            She breaks out into a mischievous grin, bumping him on the thigh with her foot. “A damn good one, I’d say.”

            The ghoul chuckles a bit more. “I hope you know where I’m coming from, doll,” he continues so he can make sure she’s following along. “I’m not looking to harm anyone that didn’t earn it. It seems to me that you’re on the same page with that one.”

            Bobbie nods earnestly. “Most definitely, Hancock, sir.” She salutes him and laughs, obviously getting in a cheerful mood now that she was on her drugs.

            He pats her leg gently as he moves to stand, feeling he’s taken up enough of her time and driven Deacon away to satisfy his own selfish needs. 

           

 

 

 

 

 

            Bobbie finds herself in Goodneighbor again, waiting for Hancock to catch up with all his mayoral duties while he’s been away fighting deathclaws. She watches the ghoul talk with Fahrenheit, his ‘main squeeze’ as many of the settlers have dubbed her. She remembers speaking with her, still incredibly grateful for the minigun she rewarded her with after the whole Bobbi fiasco.

            It’s interesting, if anything. Seeing Hancock look so natural and comfortable is much different than how he is around her. His shoulders are broad and relaxed, his back a little slouched as he looks over a few documents his bodyguard presented to him. She almost feels a little jealous the way they grin at each other.

            She decides to pop a few Mentats into her mouth and read Piper’s latest paper regarding her search for Shaun. It’s safe to say that this and the radio are bringing unwanted fame across the Commonwealth based on how the settlers stared at her from afar. Then again, she was sitting right next to her enormous suit of power armor.

            Hancock finally walks over to her and takes a seat, looking over her shoulder to see what she’s reading. “Thanks again for stopping by here,” he starts with a grin. “Things seem to be going well on the home front.”

            Bobbie looks up at him then darts her eyes towards Fahrenheit. “She’s pretty,” she hums nonchalantly. “Is she single?”

            The grin falls from his lips just a tad. “Why do you ask? You interested?”

            She realizes the implication of this question. A panic causes her to blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “No, I just see you guys get along really well,” she starts and already regrets it. “Just thought she might be a little something extra.”

            Bobbie is dying on the inside. Hancock’s grin has returned full-on and he can definitely notice the fierce flush on her face. “It’s not like that at all,” he laughs and puts a hand on her thigh, making her feel like she’s about to choke on her own spit. He has definitely taken this as pathetic flirting on her part. “She’s just my bodyguard, doll. Can’t be having any sex with my backup, can I?”

            She gives him a droll stare. “You _can._ There’s nothing stopping me from banging, I dunno, Deacon.”

            Watching his smile disappear brought her greater pleasure than she thought possible. The ghoul huffs, crosses his arms, and looks away. “You have a point there,” he admits. “But why him? Honestly, he’s a crook. Everything out of his mouth is a lie.”

            Bobbie gives him a wry grin. “It sounds like you’re jealous, John,” she purrs and puts her hand over hers. “Now you can’t deny that you absolutely hate Deacon.”

            He grimaces. She figures he feels as though he had been caught, which is enough to quell her previous embarrassment. “I don’t _hate_ the guy. I just feel like he’s not being totally honest with you,” he looks at her with a serious tightness to his lips. “You can’t blame me for hating the idea that a liar like him could land a woman like you.”

            Bobbie is a bit shocked at his forwardness. There’s vulnerability in his eyes, and he’s waiting patiently for her to respond. She says nothing, however, choosing instead to look down at his rough, ghoulish hand and turning it so she could intertwine her fingers with his. This seems to fluster him a bit more, so he starts to ramble.

            “I know I run my mouth but having someone see the world for what it is and is willing to do something about it…you’re an impressive gal. It means a lot to me to fight by your side,” he takes a deep breath. “I feel damn luck to have you as a friend, Bobbie Ray.”

            She’s impressed, to say the least. But she takes it further, raising his brows at him. “And that’s what we are? Friends?”

            Hancock has the audacity to look sheepish now. “Well, I have to admit I have been having some…impure thoughts of you. Maybe we can act on those later, yeah?” He gives her a charming smile, his hand squeezing hers tightly as though on instinct.

            Bobbie licks her lips thoughtfully, staring at his hand and leaving him with an anxiety she could see in his shoulders. She leans close to him, forces him to look at her face straight on before closing the distance and pressing a kiss on his lips. It felt much different than she had imagined. His lips were still there but they had been scarred. The sensation was so new and exciting; she could feel herself tightening her legs together in anticipation when she felt him reciprocate.

            Hancock cups the back of her neck and tugs her in closer, kissing her deeply and welcoming her tongue as it prodded at his lips. He knew she’s never been this close to a ghoul before. Part of him feels nervous that she might pull back and have a look of disgust. But so far, she seemed content with laving at him and suffocating herself against his lips.

            She pulls back with a sigh. There’s a beautiful flush to her lips and cheeks that he can’t help but trace a few more kisses to keep the color. The smile on her face dissipates any nervousness he might have had. “You’re pretty good at that,” she says.

            “You’re not so bad yourself,” he hums and rubs his thumb along the knuckles of the hand he was still holding. “How long have you been wanting to do that?”

            Bobbie can’t hold back a slight giggle. “Since that disgusted look you had when I mentioned banging Deacon,” she flicks the collar of his coat playfully. “He mentioned you having a thing for me. Good to know that he was right.”

            The ghoul rolls his eyes and licked his lips, tasting a familiar tangy flavor that most definitely came from her. “Is that Mentats I taste? Or am I going crazy?”

            Bobbie laughs and shakes her head. “No, that was me,” she says and holds up her packet of chems. “Had to take a few to stop myself from saying stupid shit as you chatted it up with Fahrenheit over there.”

“I’m really pleased to know that you’re the jealous type, doll,” he purrs and presses another chaste kiss against her neck. He could feel her shiver under him, knowing fully well he’s charmed his way into her graces at least.

A sudden beeping from her PipBoy rips them away from the pleasant moment. He sighed and pulled away so she can get to the notification, knowing that it was usually an urgent matter. She looks through it, her lips pursing in displeasure as she reads the notice she received. “There’s a settlement under attack. I have to go help them.”

            Hancock stands and offers his hand to help her up, which she gladly accepts. “Lead the way General.”


End file.
